King and Lionheart
by Ashe and Nef
Summary: What kind of king would Camelot want? One that would risk his life for that of a lowly servant, or one who does what his father tells him to? Rating will go up - Merlin/Arthur
1. A: The Hunter's Heart

**We don't own Merlin. If we did, you probably don't want to know what we would do to it. Then again, maybe you would, because we might just do something close to this.**

I am Ashe, and I can only take half of the credit for this. My fantastic role play partner, Nef, will be writing Merlin's half of this story. I'll be taking Arthur's. This role play has grown to the point where it's far too epic not to share it. Nef is a wonderful writer and patiently lets me ramble as I puzzle away and try to figure out how Arthurian legends can mash up with the Merlinesque world. I've got a lot of crazy ideas that I babble on about constantly. So this is the result of our slightly evil plotting. I hope you enjoy it.

I'm a big fan of Uther, and I've never been a fan of Uther posing as just the 'bad guy' in fanfictions, because he's really not. Nor is he stupid, he took Camelot from someone else, if that doesn't tell you that he knows how to plan to _win_, then I don't know what does. Do not underestimate him, and do not forget what he's done, and most importantly - never forget what he is capable of.

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Arthur knew the area around Camelot almost as well as he knew his own chambers. He had grown up exploring, running off with his father's knights when they went out. He learned a lot from them, how to be noble and how to be strong and brave. He mastered the crossbow first as soon as he was big enough to hold it properly.

His father, a man of reserved quiet and very little affection when it came to his son, would give him a few approving smiles when Arthur proved himself. So a lot of what he did was all about proving himself. Gaius taught him to read over the course of a few years because he really had no interest in it, he was too busy learning the art of the sword and shield. He was constantly looking for his father's approval.

And by god, he was a prince, so he had everything he could have ever wanted, and he _did_.

He must have been insufferable, he thought, always joining the younger knights as they leered and teased servants, making them to horribly mundane things because they liked to have a bit of a laugh, even if Morgana gave them the nastiest glares whenever he did. But he was good at what he did, no one could deny that. And if some of the servants ended up with a couple bruises because Arthur had 'missed' with his sword, then he certainly couldn't be held accountable, he was the _prince_ and he was far stronger than any of the servants.

Until Merlin came along.

Never had someone of lower class challenged him like that, he remembered the way Merlin's eyes crinkled in the sun, and that he apparently hadn't known that he was the _prince_ before calling him an ass. His words were cryptic, and at the time, he didn't know what he meant. The next time they met, Merlin gained the upper hand.

He was astonished that someone would speak to him like that, the way Merlin ran his mouth was something he had never experienced before. He simply didn't know what to do when someone stopped bending over backwards for him and started telling him what he really thought. He even tried to remind him of who he was.

Merlin had quite nearly _beaten_ him, but he had gotten arrogant and it had given Arthur the advantage. He even let the boy go without punishment because he had, somehow, sent his entire world off balance in just a few short minutes.

He admitted, much later (and only to himself) that he had been selfish, and arrogant. Merlin told him all these things on a regular basis anyways, so it wasn't like he didn't know. Merlin was irritating, stupid, foolish…completely and utterly brave. It was his first taste of Merlin's bravery, standing up to the prince of Camelot. Merlin really didn't know how to speak to nobles, so Arthur just left him to it so he could figure it out himself. There were a lot of things he left Merlin to figure out on his own, and amused himself when Merlin clearly made a mistake and wound up in the stocks.

But god knew he would do anything to keep him alive, even if it meant risking his own life. He would never forget how he felt when Merlin had been poisoned, the way he had dropped to his knees above him, carried Gaius' chambers, and rode off into the distance (Thanks to Morgana, who told him to do what was _right_). Arthur had never defied his father before, it was the first time that he had done something different.

Merlin changed everything about him, and he still remembered Morgana's words.

"_What kind of king would Camelot want? One that would risk his life for that of a lowly servant, or one who does what his father tells him to?_"

Merlin was sitting in his chambers, busying himself with packing as Arthur poured over papers and maps. "Merlin" He said roughly. "When we leave tomorrow, you will be staying behind" Merlin spluttered but Arthur kept going before he could actually protest. "I'll have you in the stocks overnight if you refuse." And there was a damn good reason why no one was left in the stocks overnight, they couldn't refuse any.. advances. Though he wasn't sure that Merlin understood the weight of his threat (and it wasn't like Arthur would actually do that, he would never _never_ put his or anyone else's life in that situation, it had happened once, and that was one time too many).

Merlin had effectively lodged himself comfortably in Arthur's life, changing the way he thought and lived so easily. He had made his choice, so many months ago, to become the king he wanted to be, and not the one he was expected to be, when he had ridden to find the antidote to the poison Merlin had swallowed.

There was a good reason Merlin wasn't coming with them now, he wasn't exactly stealthy, and their newest troubles were slavers - he didn't know just how many of them there were. He was only taking a small group of men with him, six knights, one servant, and himself. Merlin wasn't going because Arthur wasn't going to risk him getting captured.

These men knew what they were doing. Over the last few weeks, people had been disappearing. Obviously they knew how to get in, grab someone, and get out completely unnoticed. He couldn't afford to bring Merlin, who foiled far too many hunts completely by accident, because he would give them away.

One person had escaped, and had given her statement before the king and prince, telling them everything she knew – it was enough for Arthur to go in and fix this problem, save the lives of everyone in danger. He owed it to his people, how could he hope to rule a kingdom when his people feared for their safety?

They rode out in the morning; Arthur gave Merlin a firm look as they left, making it very clear that he was staying. It only took a day to get to the edge of the forest, so by evening they had set up camp. One knight and his squire were staying at the treeline with supplies to watch the horses and wait for them; the rest were coming in. Arthur and his five knights prepared themselves – the woods were dense, which would make finding their way difficult, but it would also cover them well enough.

Their goal was to find the place, mark the trees, and take note of how many there were. There were more knights in Camelot prepared to march out when word was sent. It was a solid plan, he thought, the knights of Camelot were excellent at stealth.

In the morning, they were moving into the forest, and until then they were huddled around a fire, grouped in twos or threes to keep warm in the chilly autumn night. One thing a knight learned early was how to keep warm, and how important it was to do so. Sleep in groups to share body heat, freezing to death was not a knightly way to die.

"How come Merlin isn't with us?" Leon was asking, pulling a bit of meat off the rabbit's bone as he spoke. "He's usually with us on these things."

"He's far too clumsy" Arthur stated firmly. "He would give us away." Merlin had managed to charm the knights too, they were all friendly with him and he wasn't entirely sure why that fact stood out to him, there were always a few servants who gathered the knights attention (but they were usually women, which Merlin clearly was not). Leon said nothing else, stripping the last of the meat from the bone and tossing it into the fire, chewing thoughtfully.

And eventually Arthur stood because he couldn't take how quiet it was. Merlin was like the bridge between prince and knights, he was the one who chatted and prattled on about nothing, he make everyone comfortable and without him Arthur was a bit uneasy. Normally they would be bickering or something.

So he went for a bit of a walk, the air was cold and a bit nice against his skin, but a part of him knew what he was expecting when he left the group.

Arthur definitely wasn't stupid. He wasn't a great mastermind, but he knew how to offer a deal to visiting Lords that favoured Camelot in a way where they thought they were getting the better half of. He knew how to play his knights; he knew how to motivate each one of them into doing their best. He knew respect.

And he knew Merlin.

There were no threats in the world that could make Merlin stay in Camelot when Arthur left – not even if he chained the man to a stone wall and set his feet in slabs of rock. He would somehow find his way out, and would be happily standing at Arthur's side an hour later. He truly did try to be bothered by Merlin's need to be beside Arthur at all times, who needed a servant who was loyal to a fault?

No matter what other things Merlin was, which was a lot of things – he was brave above them all (though perhaps next to loyal). He rarely carried a weapon of any sort, he came along as a servant, and rushed into battle right at Arthur's side. He didn't know any knights who would rush into battle like Merlin did – unarmed, bare fabric over skin with no sign of metal, nothing to protect himself with. Merlin was either fantastically brave, or incredibly foolish.

He may poke fun at him, call him worthless or an idiot or whatever else he felt like throwing at him, but there was really no doubt that Merlin was brave.

If he went back and told one of his knights to go into the fight with the slavers, with no armour and no sword, he would be met with a surprised look. His men were loyal to him, but they had some amounts of self-preservation. They would refuse. And Arthur wouldn't blame them, Merlin took nothing, ever, and came out completely unscathed. Sure, he may end up seeing Merlin hiding on the ground somewhere – but he knew that he had seen Merlin rush in. So maybe he was lucky too.

Even if the servant did take a sword – it was usually gone by the time the battle was done.

And Arthur had his suspicions, but he would not give life to those thoughts. If any of it were true (which it couldn't be, no one was brave enough to serve the King's bloody son if they could be executed at a moment's notice), Arthur preferred to leave it this way. Not knowing was better than trying to hide it.

Merlin's bravery was still a rare bright light in a dim world sometimes.

Which was why Arthur didn't want Merlin coming along – it didn't matter how brave Merlin was – slavers were something new. They'd take anyone, and they were intelligent enough to have gone almost completely unnoticed until someone slipped up and their little ring was exposed. He wasn't going to risk Merlin's life and safety.

When a figure stepped out, Arthur (who had been hoping that it was a deer or an owl or anything but his servant) swiped his sword through the air without any real intent.

He stopped it long before he could reach Merlin, but close enough for him to have caught the gleam of metal from the light of the stars. He wanted to finish the swing, connect the flat of the blade against Merlin's head, knock him out, and then strap him to a horse and send him home with strict orders to tie him to something, or perhaps lock him in a box and stuff him under his bed.

Instead, Arthur slid the sword away and grasped the front of Merlin's clothes, manhandling the taller man so that he was looking down at him. His expression was hard "Your ears gave you away" He hissed. "And if you dare leave my side, I will personally kill you. I'll hand your head on my wall, unless you turn back now." His voice was icy, but if Merlin was going to come (he had expected it, even if he had not wanted it) then he was going to stay beside Arthur so he could make damn sure he didn't get himself killed or captured. He tightened his grip threateningly, not that Merlin would even care, because he was bloody well getting his way again. "I mean it" he added.

It was no use telling him to go home. He wasn't going to, so Arthur released him with a slight shove and stormed back to camp, "You seem a little upset." He was saying, but Arthur was busy finding a spot far enough away from the fire to be comfortable, but not close enough to be near them, his lips pulled into a thin line. Now that Merlin was here, there was no way he was going to be able to be anything but tense and worried.

"Merlin" He barked, watching the boy turn to him, looking distinctly unhappy. Arthur wanted Merlin to know he was angry, because he definitely was. He was angry because he liked Merlin too much to lose him, Merlin was the least boring servant he had ever known, he would probably die of boredom without the boy's inane chattering. He ordered Merlin to gather him something warm, the papers he had brought, and something to light them with. The sliver of moon he could see through the trees wasn't bright enough for him to read them properly.

Arthur had brought two blankets, even though he only needed one. He knew damn well that Merlin was far too stubborn to listen, and probably wouldn't have packed a blanket for himself. The foolish boy brought both over to him, and he ground out a simple 'I only need one, idiot', before taking the items and examining the information he had collected, pointedly ignoring Merlin and trying not to look like he was brooding (he probably wasn't doing a very good job) as Merlin took Arthur's spot beside the knights, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders snugly and engaging them in easy conversation.

He had written a number of notes on the subject, and went over them again because they were entering the trees in the morning, Merlin's voice from the fire was animated and a bit irritating for a moment, before he stopped hearing what he was saying and instead took it as background noise. They didn't bring tents tonight, their goal was to be fast so they stuck with bedrolls and sharing space. They had already been set out (and no doubt Merlin would have noticed the spare he brought along when he had fetched the papers), and he eventually went to sleep after everyone else had retired. He hadn't noticed where Merlin was, having completely tied himself to his work, and simply fell into the roll with his back against Leon's, and slept.

He woke earlier than everyone else, and from there he got ready. Eating (everyone brought their own food, and he had again packed some for Merlin because he was far too predictable) quickly and trying not to notice that Merlin was sandwiched between Kay and his squire. Everyone woke on their own terms, Arthur had gathered everything together and was ready to go, pouring over the notes at the last minute, adding a few more inked notes and finalizing the marks they would be carving on the trees.

It was a brilliant idea, Leon's, they each carried a shiny dagger, one sharpened to a deadly point that they would use to mark the trees. Merlin didn't have one because Merlin didn't need one, he was going to be at Arthur's side at all times, like it or not.

When everyone had woke, dressed, and prepared themselves, he gathered his sword and a small pack of food (because they didn't know how long they would be there) to give to Merlin to carry. He even handed him a spare sword, because he would rather him have it than not. There was something different and completely awful about what they were going into. He had barely spoken a word to Merlin, but they had a few moments away from the group to speak before they went in. "It's no use telling you to stay here" He mused, his voice half a question, meeting Merlin's eyes carefully. "I could tie you to a tree, you know." His lips twitched, almost smiling, but stopping it at the last minute. He shook his head with a slight sigh. "Don't get killed." He clapped Merlin's shoulder; the boy seemed to relax just a little bit. It occurred to Arthur that he hadn't exactly been very nice to him. And damn Merlin for making him realize that again and again.

He turned, joining the knights and packing away the notes, bidding his good-bye to Kay and his servant, and leading the way into the trees.

The patch of woods wasn't in any particular shape; it hugged close to a pathway on one side, and circled around to a more lightly packed forest. There was a river nearby, and a few small ponds where the earth dipped lower than usual. Once they entered the trees, he was a bit shocked at how dark it was. He kept Merlin on his left side, walking slow enough to not make much noise on the leafy green ground, the knights flanking him like a pack of dogs.

The longer they walked, the more worried he felt. He kept seeing flashes of Merlin – seeing him being dragged away, an arrow in his chest, bones broken and bleeding on the ground. His knights could handle themselves, but Merlin wasn't trained in this. How would he tell Gaius if Merlin didn't return with them? How would he tell Merlin's mother? He knew that he couldn't just send her a message, he would have to deliver it personally; he could imagine it now, carrying Merlin's remains in a jar wrapped in the silly scarf he wore. He had delivered the message of a man's death to his mother, it was never easy. Normally it was reserved for knights, for nobles, not for servants who had ears that were too big for his head and who crinkled his eyes when he smiled.

He was shaken from his thoughts by a crack in the distance, he instantly stopped, grasping Merlin's elbow and crouching, his other hand on his sword. After a moment, three little birds flitted through the trees, and he relaxed, letting go of Merlin's arm and slowly straightening once more, letting out a breath he had been holding.

They continued on, walking a bit closer to each other. Arthur's arm bumped against Merlin's occasionally, reminding him that Merlin was definitely still here. He needed to stop thinking about Merlin's death, lest he make it true.

There was another noise, this one wasn't a bird, and the knights were coming together. Arthur's hand found Merlin's wrist, tugging Merlin behind him as the remaining six crouched back to back in a circle, scanning the area for anything that looked unusual, waiting for another noise, and there were more of them, they came from all around them. Low rustling circled them; it was definitely not another animal, and definitely not a prisoner.

The sense of unease settled in, he gripped Merlin's wrist a little tighter because he was suddenly wondering if it had been a wise idea to only bring five other men. Perhaps he had personally assured all of their deaths.


	2. M: A Sorcerer's Choice

**A/N:** Hey guys I'm Nef, the second half of this Merthur writing duo. As Ashe explained I'll be writing in Merlin's point of view. I hope you guys will enjoy this as much as we do.~_  
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_You will be staying behind. _

_Staying behind_? Merlin frowned a bit, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. This didn't settle well with him. _At all_. Staying behind. And what exactly did Arthur expect him to do while he was gone? Fret and worry and wonder if everything was going the way it should have been? If the knights were keeping Arthur properly safe? Despite the way he was treated (And okay, yes, sometimes the insults went both ways) he did actually consider Arthur to be his friend, even if that friendship was only one sided. He felt a certain connection to Arthur which might have been because everyone else seemed to think them connected in one way or another but that didn't matter because the link _was _there, or at least it felt real enough.

He opened his mouth to protest, to change Arthur's mind - something he could do easily enough on occasion by simply _complaining _- but before he could get even a word out the prince had continued, and Merlin lowered his gaze, shoulders slumping just slightly. Almost like a scolded child. He said nothing in return, and the knights parted shortly after.

But of course Merlin didn't listen. He _never _did. Arthur really should have known that. Known that Merlin would wait all of five minutes before following after them - at a safe distance. If he was caught too soon Arthur would give him a good scold and send him back, and how could he protect the prince if he was stuck behind? So really, he had a good reason for disobeying. Right? Right. And Arthur had proved himself to be incapable of protecting himself when magic was involved. Who knew what these slavers were up to, if they were using magic or not, if it was even slavers at all and not some sort of creature. It wouldn't have been the first time people went missing because of a 'monster'. But then there had been that witness..

He really hoped it wasn't one of those. People he could deal with. Flesh and blood human beings. But magic and monsters, that was a completely different playing field. Things got complicated when magic was involved, and out there in the middle of the woods, surrounded by knights, he might not have had the resources to defeat whatever this might have been. Assuming it wasn't just slavers.

He _really _hoped it was just slavers.

Merlin kept a good amount of distance between himself and the knights, following hoof prints pressed into the wet ground when the distance became a little too much. And when the path became too difficult to travel by horse he dismounted and followed by foot. For trained knights, it really was a wonder they didn't realize they were being followed. Maybe they knew and they didn't care. Maybe they knew it was he who followed them. Merlin had been so sure when leaving that he would have been caught right now, and that he would have to talk his way out of Arthur's commands to go back; he was actually a bit proud of himself for not having been caught yet.

Eventually though, camp was made and Merlin ducked behind a large rock to wait. Arthur would break himself off from the group eventually, and that's when he would approach. He had a much better chance in reasoning with Arthur when the other knights weren't present. He could hear Arthur call for first watch even from his position a good ways away from the group; he gave it another couple minutes before he pushed to his feet, keeping low to cut through the trees. The trees were thick in this part of the forest, difficult to maneuver if one was moving quickly. He made to call out for Arthur but stopped himself right away, shaking his head. That would have every knight in camp on him in a heartbeat with weapons drawn, and that was an experience he certainly wanted to avoid.

He probably should have done _something _though, alerted Arthur to his presence. Whispered even. _Anything_. But he didn't. He pushed through the trees and stepped straight into the small opening Arthur had claimed; it didn't occur to him that Arthur could have dropped him where he stood if the prince had been on edge enough to react first and think later. Which was entirely possible, seeing as what they - the knights - were hunting.

Merlin didn't have time to so much as _flinch _as Arthur brought his sword down just inches away, nor did he have a chance to snap at the prince for startling him like that - Merlin was possibly the only servant in all of Camelot that could sass their master and get away with it - before he was yanked forward, any complaint dying in his throat. Oh, okay. Arthur was mad. This really didn't surprise Merlin - he angered the prince quite frequently - but that didn't make it any less…_intimidating_. Arthur really could look rather frightening when he was trying. And sometimes when he wasn't.

And that whole head on a wall thing? Not helping the situation.

"You seem...a little upset?" He called after the prince, whom was already marching off in that 'why do I have to put up with this' sort of way. Brushing himself off quickly, Merlin bounced on his heels once and cut through the trees shortly after. He planned on sticking by Arthur's side no matter how the prince might have threatened, because that was really the only place he could do his job. The only way he could provide protection. It was a…different sort of protection, yes. He couldn't very well pick up a sword and fight off any enemies using brute strength as the other knights did, but he cold do _something_.

He could use magic to save Arthur, like he had countless times before. It was dangerous, both because it was forbidden, and because Merlin wasn't _completely _sure of himself when it came to magic. He was still learning, after all. It would have been so easy to make a mistake. To let something slip. To reveal his not-too-little secret. And honestly? It terrified him. What Arthur would do if he ever found out. Because magic was forbidden. An offense punishable by death. And it wouldn't have mattered that he'd saved the king's son dozens of times.

If he slipped up it meant death, there was no escaping that. He'd seen Uther's reaction to magic far too many times to ever doubt that.

But he couldn't _stop_. Magic was part of who he was. It was part of him. It was how he was even able to assist Arthur at all and he wouldn't give that up, despite the ever looming threat. Arthur was his _friend_, unrequited or not. And he wouldn't abandon his friend to possible danger or death because he was _frightened_.

So instead of turning back, instead of returning home to wait out Arthur's return, he followed after his prince. Lips pressed into a thin line, brow furrowed just slightly, he remained silent. Like a scolded child. Because he _knew _Arthur was upset with him, and it _did _bother him. Just not enough to make him turn back.

Sometimes, it was almost as though Arthur actually cared. Behind all of those insults and flat looks. Somewhere between the name calling and the orders, Arthur would do s_omething_. He would say something, look a certain way, _smile _even and in that second it was almost as though what they had wasn't just the relationship of a servant and a master, but an _actual _friendship. And then Arthur would spoil it with that mouth of his and things would go back to the way they had been before. Merlin talking far too much. Arthur snapping at him for one thing or another.

It was almost sort of comforting. The routine they'd fallen into. Something close to normal now. It really didn't bother Merlin as much as it had in the beginning, the way Arthur treated him. Because despite the abuse, Arthur regarded him with more emotion than he did any other servant, and that meant something. To Merlin, at least.

Ignoring Arthur's mood, Merlin settled by the fire with the knights - after getting what the prince needed, of course, he was _still _a servant and he wasn't going to ignore _all _orders. They picked up a nice bit of conversation, chatting idly amongst each other. They talked a little about everything, about Camelot and the weather and the slavers they were hunting. Every once and awhile Merlin would chance a glance at his prince, who still poured over the map as though something would jump out at him, eyes narrowed slightly.

He wondered how long it would be before Arthur talked to him again, rather than barking orders.

The night air was chilly, and eventually Merlin found his way to the extra blanket - he had a nagging suspicion that Arthur had packed it for him, but then he wouldn't question the prince about such a thing for fear of damaging that all too precious ego of his. What kind of prince packed a blanket for a servant, after all? A good man would, Merlin though, but others would have seen that as a sign of weakness. Present company excluded, of course.

When morning came, Merlin rose with the others - not woke by the feel of Arthur's boot in his side thankfully - ate what had been given to him gratefully, and did as he was told, helping to pack up, and when they finally set off again he was relieved to do so. There was something eerie about those woods, something unsettling. The air was far too heavy, far too close and the moisture in the air almost made it feel as though they were very nearly breathing in water. It was unnerving, and as far as he was concerned, the sooner they got this done and over with, the sooner they could _leave _and he could shake away the sneaking suspicion that something _bad _was going to happen out there.

Things seemed to move slowly after that, but Merlin didn't mind. In this case slow meant good. No conflict, just a careful and searching walk through the forest. He was eager to leave behind that foreboding forest, with tree branches that seemed to reach out like arms, snagging at the fabric of his clothes and scraping uselessly against the knights armor. Merlin was suddenly very grateful for the size of the group and the prince at his side. It might not have been a monstrous group but each and every one of them was highly skilled, and walking beside Arthur made him feel almost safe. Like nothing could happen. Of course he knew better than to give into that feeling, because it was exactly there, at Arthur's side, that most of the bad things happened. Assassination attempts and sorcery and oh goodness, countless other things.

They had been walking for a good amount of time, carefully and vigilantly. Even Merlin kept his gaze lifted, scanning the trees that surrounded them with a thoughtful eye. He kept fairly close to Arthur, though apparently to the prince, not close enough. The first time Arthur caught him by the arm he started, glancing over quickly as though he expected something to be wrong, and he did. But Arthur simply tugged him a bit and continued walking, wordless, eyes trained straight ahead, and Merlin relaxed again, but not completely. Not here.

It occurred to Merlin a dozen or so steps later, that Arthur seemed to be going out of his way to touch him, and Merlin couldn't easily figure out why. He came to the right conclusion eventually, that Arthur must have been making sure he didn't wander off and get himself in trouble, but others skirted past his thoughts. Maybe he was worried. Maybe Arthur felt that same sense of malice within the forest and was seeking brief contact for comfort.

The thought that Arthur would turn to him for comfort was oddly…fascinating. It gave way to the thought that maybe, just maybe, he meant more to the prince than the man was willing to express. Arthur did have it in him to be kind, to offer a smile and a pat on the back when it was needed. But were those really hints of friendship or was Merlin just being hopeful? Was it at all possible that Arthur-

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as Arthur grabbed for him again, this time more urgently than before. And he didn't let go. Merlin went still, even ceasing to breathe as he stared ahead in the direction of this new noise. He could almost make out a figure through the trees. Something…_someone_. It was a person. A man. The glint of metal in a patch of sunlight.

It was like an explosion. Suddenly that silent still forest was alive, bursting at the seams with movement. The air hung heavy with shouting, both from the knights and from the men who advanced on them. They had come out of nowhere, dressed in colors that matched the forest around them. How long had they been out there? How long had they been _watching_? Merlin didn't even have a chance to wonder these things, that shock of fear and panic shooting through him like he'd been injected with something. What could he do…what could he do? He could drop a couple tree branches onto their heads. He could- where was Arthur?

Merlin turned, scanning the area almost frantically for his prince. Not because Arthur was his only protection, but because he was the one supposed to be doing the protecting here. He was supposed to be by Arthur's side, _helping_. But Merlin wasn't much a help, dodging the swipes of swords and daggers, an elaborate dance around the trees to keep his life. A little nudge with magic here to help a knights sword find its target, or there to drop a few leaves to distract an enemy. Not much, but enough.

They were outnumbered, hopelessly so, but that didn't keep each one of those men from fighting. The valiant knights that they were. Merlin would admire this, later. But just then he was avoiding a blade through the chest. The shimmer of sunlight on armor attracted Merlin's attention, and he glanced up briefly to catch sight of Arthur; he let out a short breath of relief that his prince was still standing, but it wasn't long lived. Arthur fought superbly, bravely, but that didn't keep the enemy from pulling a cowardly move. While one attracted Arthur's attention, the other approached from behind.

Merlin didn't see what happened after that, a deadly duel between another knight and one of those men blocked his view and not so silently he cursed.

By the time Merlin got close enough to see, Arthur was down, and his chest tightened painfully. He called the princes name, shouted it in desperation but the noise was drowned out by the clash of metal against metal. He watched as the very man who had knocked Arthur unconscious now had him by the legs and was dragging him further back into the forest. Suddenly Merlin knew that if he lost sight of Arthur, he would never see him again. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let his future king be forced into slavery - or worse. He _wouldn't_. A sudden shock of adrenaline had him reaching for the nearest weapon he could find, in this case it was a rock. Not anything compared to a sword, but it would do when colliding with the head. And Merlin had good aim, especially when that aim was aided by a little touch of magic. He was down in a heartbeat and Merlin cut through the battle scene.

The man he'd struck had fallen, splitting his head on the thick root of a tree. Merlin ripped away the cloak he wore - as green as the ground they stood upon - scrambling to his feet in a hurry. He tried not to think of the fact that he had just taken a man's life, instead focusing on what needed to be done. He would think about that later. Arthur's still form shot waves of panic through him, and he could only pray that it was nothing more than a bump to the head with the hilt of a sword, rather than anything serious. He dropped at his princes side, tossing the cloak over his unconscious form to hide him.

The cloak hid Arthur well enough, and Merlin hoped that he'd been dragged away from the scene far enough that he wouldn't be noticed. They were loosing the battle, and obviously so. Their group had diminished significantly, and yet Merlin did not see their bodies line the thick and rooted forest floors. He knew suddenly, that they were being taken. Captured. Probably knocked unconscious like Arthur had been. Like he _prayed _Arthur had been. Because a bump on the head was something that could be dealt with. Something you could _recover _from. Merlin didn't stray too far from Arthur's body, hiding himself from view behind a thick tree stump.

He felt cowardly in doing this. In hiding when he should have been following those bastards back to wherever they had come from. And Arthur would likely tell him as much when he woke. If he woke. No, Merlin, _when _he woke. He couldn't afford to think pessimistically. He was keeping Arthur safe, like he was supposed to. And they couldn't very well rescue the knights if they were bound and locked in a cage alone side the others, could they? That's what Merlin told himself. That he wasn't being a coward. That he following a different line of attack. A different method. He would wait for Arthur to come to, and then they would go after those bastards and get their men back. _Arthur's _men back.


End file.
